Reversal
by Kirityu Ryukaro
Summary: Three kids, wanting to be heroes. Three kids, declared dead. Three kids, who were told they couldn't be heroes. No one said a thing about villains.
1. Chapter 1 - Put Down

Midoriya Izuku was a simple child. He was quirkless, he wanted to be friends with people.

People picked on hin for being quirkless. His mom hated him for being quirkless, for being useless.

His best friend, Bakugou, had an awesome quirk. An explosion quirk. Perfect for being a hero.

No one cared his quirk was perfect. All they saw was a pathetic kid who was friends with a quirkless loser. Bakugou was made fun of relentlessly, with the explosive child always yelling back swears and profanities, saying that Midoriya was not useless. Saying that he believed that Midoriya could still be a hero while quirkless.

His parents didn't like Bakugou hanging around Midoriya once he was declared quirkless, but they were friends with Inko and didn't want to upset her, but they always showed their displeasure with Midoriya every time Bakugou was in the bathroom whenever he invited the green haired boy over.

Everyone called him Deku, an alternate reading of his name, meaning useless, weak.

Bakugou called him Deku, too, because he said it sounded like Dekiru, meaning "You can do it." He liked that interpretation.

Midoriya still had the hope he could be a hero, until the day he met All Might, who saved him from a sludge villain.

_"I don't think you can be a hero when you're quirkless."_

Those words hit hard.

Then later, the realisation that he was the reason why Bakugou was assaulted, why Yagi had ended up losing the villain in ghe first place.

Why Bakugou was in the hospital suffering from some sort of infection in his lungs.

_"Go kill yourself."_ They all said. _"You worthless Deku!"_

"_You're useless! You shouldn't even be alive!" _Inko had hissed, striking him with the back of her palm.

_"Don't listen to them." _Bakugou had begged, pleaded, as he lay in the hospital when Midoriya came to give him his homework.

It was because of him, that Bakugou was in this state. It was because of him, that Bakugou was suffering. It was because of him, that Bakugou was being teased, bullied, made fun of.

_It would be better if he was dead._

Midoriya stood on top of the school building, the wind carrassing his hair gently.

He looked down, five storeys beneath his feet, letting gravity take its hold as he leaned forward.

Midoriya Izuku, aged fourteen, was declared dead three days later.

* * *

He had it rough, once his quirk manifested.

His father, a telekenisis quirk, allowing him to lift things with his mind. His mom, an echolocation quirk, allowing her to detect people easily.

One rescue hero, one battle hero.

He was born with a brainwashing quirk. A villain's quirk.

His parents were disappointed. How, did two heroes, end up having a child with a quirk that is unbecoming of a hero?

He was a failure to them. It didn't help that he was also clumsy as a child, bumping into things, tripping over carpets, dropping pencils on the ground. His insomnia made it worse, not letting him sleep at night and he was always tired in the day.

_"You better not mess up, you and your villainous quirk._"

His classmates weren't much better, calling him a villain, taking his stuff, blaming it on him. Shinsou never complain, took all the abuse, all the hate.

He wanted to be a hero. He wanted his parents to love him, like they did before he had gotten this _villainous_ quirk.

He wanted to be accepted.

His body ached, from punches, his ears ringing from screeching. His body was littered with cuts, from knives to glass to broken plates. It went on, getting worse and worse. He was thrown against a wall for opening his mouth. His hand was stabbed for trying to defend himself.

Until one day, he snapped.

He packed his things, the bare essentials, some savings he had from over the years, and walked out the door, never to walk back in again.

His first hint of kindness was when he passed out in a park from malnutrition, injuries from his abuse, and assault from a drunkard. He had woken up in a strange room, and there was man, sitting on a chair, grey scarf around his neck, with eye bags that rivalled his own. He was scared, skittish, waking up the man by accident.

He learnt the man's name. He allowed the child with the villainous quirk stay, with warm meals, a soft bed, proper facilities to wash up and clean water, something he had been denied for years.

Until the man left during the day for work, and the entire building was set on fire.

Shinsou Hitoshi, aged fourteen, was rumoured to be dead.

* * *

Monoma hated his quirk.

His quirk, his quirk, his _god damned useless quirk._

That was all his family cared about, all they talked about.

His useless quirk. His quirk that relyed on others to work. His quirk that was dependent of other people.

_"Useless." _They said, _"You can't amount to anything with a quirk like that. You can't depend on people, Neito. You can never depend on people."_He couldn't understand it either. How did his quirk turn out like this?

His father, an analysis quirk. He always figured out how to do things, whether it be making items, fixing things, knowing anything, anyone from the inside out.

His mother? She was a doctor, her quirk only capable of taking a small piece of a person's DNA and using it to heal another part of their body.

He had gotten a weird mix of those two. His quirk could temporarily take in people's DNA, identify the quirk factor, and replicate it for a short period of time. The first him he used his quirk, was when he had accidentally copied Kendo's quirk, a childhood friend that he had known since birth.

They thought he had her quirk. Until he copied his teacher's quirk by accident, temporarily gaining the ability to make words form on paper in a variety of ink types and colours.

This went on.

_Useless quirk. Weak quirk. Good for nothing quirk._

Monoma wanted to be a hero, still. His quirk was useful, he reasoned. He was unpredictable. He could keep recharging quirks. He could copy any quirk, use any quirk, and no one could tell what he would do.

His family couldn't stand him. Locked him in his room during family gatherings, denying his existence, pulled him out of school to be homeschool, embarrassed that their kid had such a useless quirk that was dependent on other people.

He still wanted to be a hero.

And they decided to end that thought. He wasn't wanted in this family. No one really remembered him, except for that orange haired girl who hasn't seen him since they were six. Just killing him, and no one would remember, no one would know. They could try again, but the existence of the child with the useless quirk had to be erased first.

Monoma caught wind of it, and promptly snuck out, running out of his house, afraid of the fate that would befall him should he stay.

Monoma Neito, age fourteen, was privately announced as deceased, his "remains" stuffed in a coffin and lowered into the pit in the ground.


	2. Chapter 2 - Reversal

"Target in sight?"

"Yep. He's in front of you."

"Gotcha. He walking out of his office now. Should I jump him or not?"

"..."

"That was a rhetorical question, right?"

"Fuck you, Smeargle."

"Die!"

"Okay then, Ditto."

"Fuck off, Will-0. I told you my name was Mimicry."

"Shut the fuck up, you two!"

Todoroki Enji never saw it coming, and he found himself covered in smoke. When the smoke cleared, his flames were put out, and he was promptly doused with cool, ice water.

He stomped around in a rampage as people started taking pictures are murmuring, not noticing the figure clad in black disappear into the darkness.

* * *

"Tell me again why we're not just outrightly killing him?"

"Because one, he can burn us. Number two, killing him won't break him. He wants to be Number one, and only cares about being the strongest and his status. Destroying his ego will prevent him from being number. Breaking him is much more fun." The figure in black cackled over the headpiece, "Plus he's a piece of shit and he's not worth killing in the first place."

"And how do you know that?"

"Breaking into his office. Duh. Did you know his security password is IAmNumberOneNotAllMight."

"Well now we do."

"Egoistical bastard. Freaking piece of trash. Just like those parents of yours. Did we ever figure out who did the job for us and set their house on fire?"

"Nope."

"Please let me kill him. I can make him jump off a roof."

"You think that will kill a worthless flaming dumpster trash like him?"

"I wanna kill him though."

"Why?"

"He set a nice man's house on fire for absolutely no reason. Scratch that, he burnt down an entire block of estates to... um... do what - "

"Catch a villain who's quirk was to grow out his fingernails?"

"Yeah that."

"Anyways, any other targets?"

"Um... someone from elementary school. Tsubasa. Wing quirk, and his little band of bullies."

"You wanna go alone, Boss?"

"I don't care. And stop calling me boss."

* * *

_"Last night, five corpses of middle school students were found. They were ... "_

Aizawa let out a sigh, and rubbed his head. His apartment building was set on fire by Enji of all people (He was way too lazy to file a complaint. Plus, there were already tens of hundreds of people complaining already), plus Yamada had extra room in his house, and just let him move in. He didn't have much stuff anyways, most of his items being furniture, and food.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

He was the one that found the corpses. Limbs splayed out, bleeding all over, stab wounds littered their bodies. Intestines splayed out, eyes stabbed, he couldn't even tell which hand belonged to which body. Their faces were left untouched, as if whoever did this wanted them to be identified.

And written in their blood, across the wall, was that familiar emblem. A circle, a smiley face with a DNA double helix as a mouth, with strings hanging under it.

_Reversal._

They were a powerful group that had literally come out of nowhere. They were brutal, they aimed to break people, rather than killing them (though they did have a very, very high kill count for a group that only emerged a few months ago) and no one knew what their real intention was.

Their targets were all over the place. Businessmen, heroes, villains, civilians, students, teachers. There was no clear aim. It was almost as if they were killing and breaking everyone they came across, hacking into bank accounts, except Aizawa knew that they wouldn't do that.

He had drawn up a diagram, and hung it on the wall of his room. He had tried to dig up connections, papers, records, backgrounds of the victims in this very random massacre. The best he could find, corrupted businessmen, people funnelling money illegally, people making drugs. The lightest crimes? None. The students records were all clean. No traces of drug dealing, funding criminal activity, heck not even a single cigarette.

All of those who had their bank accounts meddled with, they tried to trace it.

And where did all the money end up.

In old care homes, orphanages, hospitals, schools, to people who really, really needed the money.

None of them made any sense.

They were smart, for sure. No traces of fingerprints, or even a single hint of DNA. Cameras that just happened to catch them had corrupted feeds, and for the ones that still worked, they only caught two people. One with fluffy hair, donning a metallic mask, wearing a hoodie, and another one was caught on another camera, this time with colour, and they had a blonde with a suit with two long tails reaching down to his knees (... or was it ankles?)and a mask covering most of their face, leaving under their left eye and half their mouth exposed. The first one was on a black and white security camera, and blonde was not a rare hair colour for them to deduce anything.

And they couldn't even figure out their genders from the feeds. The first one wore such baggy clothes and the other was caught in a horrible direction by the camera.

Their names? Will-0 and Mimicry. Their abilities, unknown. How they found that out? A man, still alive, so close to death, muttering the name over and over again. Another one, a nearly dead hero, his voice so soft, it was barely made out.

Both of them died the second they were moved to the ambulance for treatment.

But Aizawa was sure there had to be another person. Both of them, while good, were amateurs. Based on their fighting style, they were new to this. Or they just weren't as good at it. Jagged cuts, multiple stabs, as if they were trying to find the best place to kill, and the emblem.

Aizawa saw the emblem painted in three different ways. One was linked to Will-0, and they weren't able to draw the circle properly. It was always wobbly. Mimicry's emblem was drawn better, except they seemed to be lazy with the strings under it, or just didn't know how to paint it, and just let the blood trickle down.

The third emblem was perfect. It was always painted closer to the ground, so Aizawa assumed this third party was shorter than the other two.

But he couldn't confirm it. He didn't even have a name to place on this other ... villain?

Were they villains?

Probably, for they were killing people.

But why did that leave such a bad taste in his mouth?

Probably because of the kid he found a few days before that idiotic flame brained Enji decided to burn his home down. A kid that was innocent, called a villain because of his quirk, and died in that fire while has teaching at UA. A kid wronged by his parents who were heroes, labelled a villain by everyone he met.

At times like this, Aizawa hated his job.

Helping people, yes.

But who's fault was it when someone, a teenager at that, is pushed towards being a villain? Not because wanted to be one, but because he was labelled as once for a fricking quirk!?

* * *

Bakugou was very, very withdrawn.

Midoriya jumped off a building.

He jumped off a building.

_He jumped off a god damned fricking building._

Why didn't he listen to him!? He told him not to listen to them...

The next few days were a whirlwind, once he got out of the hospital and went back to school.

Midoriya jumped.

No one knew for sure that he had, but he was the only one missing from school and there was a huge splatter of blood on the ground.

But Bakugou knew him since they were kids.

In his churning gut, he knew that Midoriya had jumped.

He knew he had gone to the hospital, the one that Inko always went to, asking for anyone under the name Midoriya Izuku.

The nurse looked at him sombrely, and said, "I'm sorry, sir. The person you are looking for has just passed away. You can find his relatives in room 604."

And so Bakugou did, running through the hospital, racing up the stairs because there were too many people waiting for the lift, and he burst into the hospital room, lungs screaming in pain for his overexertion.

He found an empty bed, windows open, the curtains flapping in the wind. Inko was talking to a doctor, but Bakugou didn't hear any of it as he felt his world break into smithereens.

His best friend. His quirkless friend. The kindest person he ever knew, the only person that could probably be murdered and still find some way to forgive his murderer. The person who refused to let Bakugou beat their bullies up, saying that beating them up would be lowering them to their level.

And he was gone. _Just .. gone..._

Inko had harshly pushed him out, screaming something about caring for her useless son and that he was better off dead, before slapping him and calling Mitsuki to pick her son up.

Two months later, Midoriya Inko was found dead in her house, her heart ripped out and placed on a plate in the kitchen with a note that stated:

_ "Heartless bitch"_

* * *

Shinsou pulled his mask off, and shook his head, all the water droplets that had fallen on his hair from the rain spraying out and onto Monoma, who was beside him.

"What the heck is wrong with you!?"

"What is wrong with you!?"

"Do you two have to keep fighting?" A voice rang out, exasperated, like a parent would after seeing two of his kids fighting.

"He sprayed water on me!"

"It's just rain water, it ain't gonna kill you, idiot."

"There's a thing called acid rain, asshole."

"Oh no. My hair is corroding. Help me." Shinsou rolled his eyes as he mocked Monoma sarcastically.

"Die, you cat wannabe."

"Cats are cute, dickhead."

Midoriya sighed into the palm, "Why do I even bother?"

"Cause reasons. That's why, boss." Monoma stuck his tongue out, knowing that calling Midoriya "boss" was the best way to annoy the youngest of the trio.

"I told you to stop calling me boss!" Midoriya whined, "I'm not your boss or anything! We're equals!"

"Okay, then would you prefer me calling you Zuzu?"

"Die, Neito."

"Nah. Don't feel like it. If I wanted to die, I would have stayed at home and let my parents spill my guts and intestines and let my family burn me on a funeral pyre and lower my ashes into a pit." Monoma grinned.

"I'm sure you would have gone up in a gloriously." Shinsou pat him on the back patronisingly, "Don't worry about it. You'll get your chance."

"Fuck off." Shinsou flipped up his middle finger in return, before both of them were bashed on the head.

"Just go clean your god damned clothes. Unless you wanna wear those bloodstains everyday. I'm gonna pay Aldera Junior High a visit."

"Sure thing, boss."

"Shut up, tree man."

"You know my name is awesome, unique and special. Don't be jealous."

"Like anyone would be jealous of you and your ridiculous hair."

Shinsou gaped at him in mock shock, "How dare you mock my hair!?"

"Both of you are insufferable." Monoma groaned.

"Fucking hypocrite." Midoriya hissed, pushing Monoma towards the bathroom before he left the house.

* * *

_"Today, three boys from Aldera Junior High were found tied up in a closet. The perpetrator is unknown. One had an rock hand quirk, one had a quirk that lets them shoot darts from their index fingers, and one had the ability to alter the frequency of their voice. They had their hand cut off, their fingers cut off, and their voice box ripped out a strewn across the floor respectively. They have been noted by several teachers and students to have bullied a boy called Bakugou Katsuki before and ..."_


	3. Chapter 3 - Shinsou

Shinsou knew he didn't belong. His quirk was all that people looked at and cared about.

A brainwashing quirk? He could get nowhere in life. Even if he never used it, people will still hate him. Would use him as their scapegoat. Nothing he did would be able to convince them otherwise. Not even wearing quirk suppressing cuffs all the time would be able to do anything, in fact, that would just convice everyone that he really was a criminal.

Shinsou hated how it all turned out.

And when he finally met someone who didn't really mind his quirk, who offered him warmth and kindness that he hadn't received in so long, and then he just to fuck that up as well.

All he knew was fire. The bright orange flames, licking at his skin. The pain that ran through his veins, and all that he could register was that _it hurts it hurts it HurtS IT HURTS -_

It turned black, and Shinsou didn't know how long he had passed out from. Or what he passed out from. Heat exhaustion or from inhaling carbon monoxide.

_Or if he was even alive in the first place._

It was bright. Way too bright, when Shinsou opened his eyes, and found himself lying on a bed. His head was throbbing, but he still pushed himself up. He had no idea where he was, and he was starting to panic. His breaths came in faster, and leaned forward, trying to calm himself down. Panicking would do him no good here.

"Hey, calm down." Two warm hands were placed on his shoulders, and gripped him tightly. "Breath in deeply."

Shinsou looked up, to find a green haired boy with a freckled face looking back at him. On instinct, his tried to push away, but the boy was strong than he looked, "I'm not going to hurt you. Just... calm down, okay? Then we'll talk."

It took Shinsou quite some time before he stopped shaking so violently, and he warily eyed the green haired boy who reclined in a chain in front of him.

"So... I'm Midoriya Izuku. Fourteen years old. Male."

Shinsou just looked at him weirdly.

"Uh... you're supposed to respond? That's what the handbook of making friends said -"

"Handbook of what now?" Shinsou gawked.

Midoriya looked at him with a serious gaze, "There's a book at the library called How to Make Friends."

Shinsou just looked at Midoriya like he was an idiot.

"Why would you need that!?"

"I never made any friends before. I had one friend, but we were friends since we were babies so I really do not know how to make friends. You seem smart, how do you make friends?!" Midoriya asked.

"I... I have no friends."

"Oh. Sorry."

Midoriya looked at his feet, before he glanced at the ceiling, tapping his feet as he wrung his hands together. He was fidgeting so much, and Shinsou could tell he was doing his best to avoid staring at him.

"Shinsou Hitoshi. Fourteen as well. Male, obviously." He rolled his eyes. He didn't know why, but being around this boy... it felt like he no longer had to put up the walls that he had surrounded himself with for the past few years.

"So... where is this?" Shinsou asked.

"Oh. This is my home! An abandoned apartment, said to be haunted by ghosts." Midoriya snorted, "As if they exist. You think you'll be okay for a while? There's something I gotta do."

"Sure." Shinsou replied hesitantly, "What are you doing anyways?"

"Nothing much. Just killing one more of Endea-fucking-vor's lackeys called a fucking Flamethrower of all things. Piece of shit." Midoriya spat, a crazed expression creeping onto his face in a way that Shinsou did not like. "He pushed my best friend to the ground once cause he saw him standing up for me."

And Shinsous realised something.

This was not the same dorky kid that had no idea how to make friends.

This kid was a killer.

And Shinsou didn't mind. His logic made sense.

A man hurt a child. The man was a pro hero.

_Surely that man was deserving of death, right?_

"Yeah, go and kill em." Shinsou nodded, "But do you know who set building on fire? The one that I was trapped in?"

"Oh. Shitty dumpster trash bin fucking Endeawhore." Midoriya shook his head, "Chasing a fucking thug who could control the keratin on their nails, of all things. Mother fucking piece of shit."

Shinsou growled.

Another pro hero.

Another shitty pro hero that destroyed the world, put people down, destroyed things with no regard for other people's lives.

He hated it.

He wanted to stop it.

His parents were shit to him because of his quirk. People with flashy quirks could destroy anything they want, and they could get away with it.

It wasn't fair.

"I know that expression. You hate it too, don't you? Quirk discrimination. Heroes being utter fucking shit balls." Midoriya grinned, his sharp, pointed canines showing. "Quirks are what controls the world now. You have a flashy quirk, you get anything you want. It's utter trash." He spat, "Criminals, bullies, heroes, villains, civilians, as long as they have a quirk, they will treat everyone else like fucking crap!"

"Stay as long as you like." Midoriya moved to turn around, "I assume you don't have anywhere to go to?"

"No... actually..." Shinsou growled, his heart hardening as he let all his pent up emotions out. "I want to rip this society apart. Everyone called me a villain my whole life cause of my fucking quirk. I can't even defend myself. Society is fucked up. You're killing one of dumpster trash's lackeys? I want in."

Midoriya snorted, "Stay in that bed until I get back. Then we talk, Shinsou Hitoshi. You better keep those fucking bandages on."

* * *

Apparently, after he was done ripping Flamethrower a new one, and left the mutilated corpse in an alleyway, he had done his research on Shinsou. He had come home with a whole folder of paper, confusing Shinsou to no end until he realised that it was reports from somewhere and he did not want to know how the heck Midoriya got his hands on them.

"So. Dad's Shinsou Hakara, mom's Shinsou Ryuko?"

Shinsou nodded, holding a steaming cup of cocoa in his hands.

"Alright... Brainwashing quirk? That's cool. People are jackasses." Midoriya snorted, tossing the entire folder away. "If you wanna stay, sure. But I'll let you know, once you make your first kill, draw your first blood? There's no turning back from that. I think I can train you to handle yourself in a fight, and your quirk should protect you should your physical skills fail, but killing is another things all together."

It was Shinsou's turn to snort, "There's nothing left for me. I'm a mistake. People call me a villain. They want a villain so badly? They get a fucking villain. I don't wanna give a shit about what others think about me. I want them to feel exactly how I felt ever since I was god damned fucking four."

Midoriya smirked, "You better damn well learn fast. I'm giving you three days to learn the basics. Bandages stay on. You got fucking second degree burns. If you don't want your skin to fall off, you better not scratch em."

* * *

Midoriya had accepted Shinsou surprisingly quickly. It hadn't taken long for Midoriya to start talking about his old classmates that bullied him for being quirkless, and for bullying his best friend for standing up to him.

He found out that Midoriya had killed his own mother.

Because she hurt his friend for being sad, and crying.

Shinsou didn't particularly care. People like that, hating their own kids for their quirks, or lack of a quirk, were fucking despicable, in his opinion. Like what kind of power you had made a person who they were. Shinsou was happy. He had finally found a person that accepted him for who he was. The other man with a scarf, yes, but even then he hadn't been so happy, so comfortable around the man than he had even been around Midoriya.

Shinsou was in the middle of a very heated conversation with Midoriya on the most painful and brutal way to mutilate someone, when suddenly, they heard a thump on the door.

Midoriya hissed, eyeing the door viciously, grabbing his knife off the table and stormed to the door.

He yanked it open, only to find no one.

Midoriya grumbled under his breath, until he saw someone lying on the ground, unconscious. A blonde, with blood leaking out from a wound on his gut.

Midoriya begrudgingly dragged him into the house, before he heaved him up gently, and ordered Shinsou to clear up the room that they used whenever any of them got hurt.

"Also get the fucking needles and the alcohol."


End file.
